


Don't Wake a Sleeping Communist

by qbay



Category: The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Other, i dont know how to do this, im so sorry, is this hot? idk it is to me lol, its not rape but im putting noncon just in case, maybe i will continue this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:34:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26095681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qbay/pseuds/qbay
Summary: im so sorry greg
Relationships: Commie/Ancom
Comments: 12
Kudos: 76





	Don't Wake a Sleeping Communist

**Author's Note:**

> you have no proof i wrote this

The news channel quietly playing on the television was the only noise to break the silence of the extremists’ headquarters. Usually, quiet didn’t last long without some sort of argument breaking out. But with Ancap and Nazi out of the house, leaving only the leftists. arguments weren’t as common. And it was quieter still, as Commie was passed out by the dim lighting of the TV with a bottle of vodka held loosely in his hand. So, Ancom was the only one left awake. And que was bored.

Que busied quemself with video games and snacks for a while. But soon enough, boredom set in further. Ancom sighed. Taking off ques headset, que stared at the ceiling. But, as expected, got nothing in return. Que rubbed ques eyes. With another sigh, Ancom stood up from ques chair and went ahead to go look for something to cure ques growing boredom.

Maybe Tankie’s awake, Ancom thought, though with the way the communist could sleep through anything it was honestly doubtful. Even so, Ancom peered around the corner into the room where the sounds of the TV were emanating from. Sure enough, there was Commie, sprawled out on the couch, fast asleep. Ancom couldn’t help but smile a bit. But then, que frowned. Que couldn’t just wake him up. That would only piss Tankie off. And a pissed off Tankie isn’t a very fun conversation partner. 

Instead, Ancom decided to watch the news. Rather loudly, not fearing que might wake up ques friend, que plopped down on the sofa. Pulling down que’s hood, Ancom listened to the dull muttering, seeing if anything would pique ques interest. Of course, though, nothing did. Tankie watched boring news, and the remote wasn’t in sight. Probably hidden so the other extremists wouldn’t change what he was watching. Slumping back into the seat, Ancom let out a drawn out groan. Que flopped ques head to the side defeatedly, and collided with Tankie’s shoulder. Quickly, que retracted. Usually, Tankie wasn’t a fan of physical contact. Whenever Ancom would grab at his sleeves or touch his arm, Tankie would nervously pull away. But now, Tankie was asleep. Ancom stared at him. Well, he’ll never know. Tired and with nothing good to do, Ancom cautiously lowered ques head onto Tankie’s shoulder. Well, this time it was more like his chest. Anyway, Ancom had decided that this was better than nothing. At least this way que could probably relax and fall asleep.

But que didn’t.

No matter how long que shut ques eyes for, Ancom could not fall asleep. Amidst all ques boredom and loneliness, the feeling that que had pretended not to know was coming arose. Yeah, que was honestly really horny. But there obviously wasn’t much que could do about it. Of course, que could just go back to ques room and jack off or something. But instead, que just stared at Tankie. At how soundly and completely he was sleeping. And then, without even really thinking it through first, que scooted over and situated quemself into Tankie’s lap.

What was que doing? What the fuck was que doing? The question raced through Ancom’s mind as que sat quietly between the sleeping communist’s legs. It was warm. Really warm. Que shivered as que felt Tankie’s heavy breath on que’s neck. Only from feeling the heat from Commie’s body all around quem, Ancom was already rock hard and breathing faster and faster. Why was this happening? Sure, que had thought of Tankie in that way a few times before, but never seriously. And yet, que found quemself just a near animalistic mess only from sitting in his lap. As que squirmed, ques groin brushed over Tankie’s thigh. Even just the slight touch made que arch ques back in pleasure as que emitted a weak moan that sounded almost more like a squeak. There was no going back.

Slowly, que sank deeper into Tankie’s chest, and began fumbling at que’s own skirt, trying to take it off quietly. And with a nervous hand, que began touching quemself. Immediately, que’s body reacted in a way it never had before, with a rush of adrenaline greater than ever. Que began moving ques hand slowly at first. Que was practically pulsating, feeling Commie’s muscular arms cradle quem. Everything felt so real. Ancom could feel Tankie’s chest rise and fall through his thin shirt. Que moved que’s hand in a rhythm complimentary to his breathing. Dizzy and lightheaded, que simply melted into the warmth, helpless in the still clueless communist’s arms. Ancom’s breathing continued to quicken into rather loud pants. Que gripped into Tankie’s shirt, squinting ques eyes and riding his leg a bit as well. Que’s head rolled back into the nook between Tankie’s neck and shoulder as que moaned. As the intensity of Ancom’s masturbation increased, so did ques recklessness. Que jerked violently at every burst of pleasure, not even trying to muffle ques moans anymore as que dissolved into Tankie’s chest. However, all of this was enough to jostle even as deep of a sleeper as Tankie.

As he came to from his drunken sleep, the first thing Commie noticed was the TV. He’d left it on. What a waste of energy, he thought as his eyes fluttered open. Then, he noticed Ancom.

Ancom.

Ancom.

Ancom, in his lap, with ques dick in ques hand. Straddling Commie’s thigh. Ques eyes half shut as que moaned louder with each thrust.

“A-Anarkiddie?”

The nickname was all Commie could stutter out in shock. Something seemed to click in Ancom’s head as que became vaguely aware that Commie was awake, but que was in far too much pleasure to stop now. Instead, que only gripped Commie’s shirt tighter as que neared orgasm. And que came, with another squeak-like moan. Immediately, que collapsed backwards into Commie’s chest, twitching and covered in cum. Commie simply continued to stare blankly at the wall as the anarchist weakly looked up to make eye contact. Blood rushed to ancom’s face along with the realization of what que had done. There was no way Tankie would ever want anything to do with quem ever again.

“Hey, Tankie,” Ancom obviously forced a nervous smile. Commie could only continue to stare at the tiny leftist helpless in his lap. “I guess I’ll be going now.” Ancom lifted quemself off of ancom and began to stagger out of the room, leaving behind ques skirt and friend.

“W...Wait, Anarkiddie,” Commie’s thick russian accent made ancom turn around meekly, obviously more embarrassed and mortified than que had ever been in ques life. “I, um…” Commie stuttered, still in shock. “Just… It’s okay. Forget about this and go to bed.” It was all he could think of to say in order to sooth the obviously distressed anarchist. Hundreds of thoughts, emotions, assumptions, and feelings raced through Commie’s head as Ancom smiled and walked away, cum still running down ques leg.

Tomorrow would be awkward.

**Author's Note:**

> there’s no evidence


End file.
